


blessings wait for you

by straykid



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:12:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straykid/pseuds/straykid
Summary: One-by-one, they each confirm that the mark has appeared on them too. It’s surprising, given how many of them are a part of the bond and how young they are. Most people only have one or two platonic soulmates, and won’t find them until they’re well into their twenties; yet here they are, a group of nine high schoolers and new college students, all with matching marks.Or: the platonic soulmates au where they learn about life, friendship, love, and everything in between—together, as a family.





	1. intro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii. so this fic is actually an idea i’ve had for awhile, and finally decided to try and write. at first this is going to focus on the platonic relationships; however, i promise that all the pairings mentioned in the tags will develop romantically. i hope you all enjoy!!!
> 
> A BRIEF EXPLANATION: in this au, there are both platonic soulmates and romantic soulmates. the marks of platonic soulmates appear on that bit of skin between your thumb and index finger, while the marks of romantic soulmates appear on your torso, directly above your heart. also, marks do not appear when you first meet/touch/kiss your soulmate!!! they appear when you fully love and trust them, either platonically or romantically.

They’re clinging to last hours of summer when the marks appear, sprawled out on the old trampoline in Chan’s backyard. The tired springs creak every time they move, breaking through the familiar summer sounds of cicadas, crickets, and their own breath. Dusk has painted the sky various shades of oranges and pinks, but they’re not focused on the scenery; they’re savoring their togetherness in the moment.

None of them notice the moment the marks—identical **9** ’s etched into the expanse of skin between their thumbs and forefingers—take shape, too preoccupied with thoughts of the upcoming school year and all it entails. Woojin and Chan will be starting courses at the local university; Minho and Changbin are going into their third and final year; Jisung. Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin will be second years; and their youngest is officially a middle school graduate moving on to his first year of high school.

It’s nice knowing that they’re all growing up together, but there’s also something undeniably frightening about it. Before long they’ll all be adults with even bigger responsibilities, and it only seems inevitable that their friendship will change too.

Someone sighs. Chan turns his head lazily to the side, only to find Jisung staring right back at him. “Why does summer have to end, hyung?” He complains.

Chan offers a small shrug in return, pulling his arm a little tighter around him. “All good things must come to an end.”

“I guess,” Jisung murmurs, sounding not at all convinced. Woojin reaches over Chan, giving Jisung a soft pat on his arm.

“Cheer up kid,” Woojin says. There’s a small smile on his face, gentle and amused, and Chan desperately wishes he had his phone out so he could capture that expression to have forever. “Look on the bright side. You’ll be able to see all your other school friends.”

“What other school friends?” Felix teases. Jisung tilts his head back far enough that he can send Felix an upside down glare.

“Asshole,” he mutters, raising his middle finger at him. Felix opens his mouth to retort, but pauses, his eyes narrowing.

“What’s on your hand?”

“What are you talking about?”  Jisung asks, brows pinching in confusion.

“There’s something black on your hand,” Felix gestures. The others immediately look over too, but Jisung pulls his hand in to examine it before they can get a good look at it. He stares at the small **9** , his head cocking to one side.

“Did one of you draw this here?” Jisung asks warily. He can feel his heart beating a bit harder, but he wills himself not to jump to any conclusions. They’re always messing around with one another, and the odds are that this is just a silly prank. “I didn’t do it to myself.”

When the others deny drawing it, he licks his right thumb, attempting to wipe away the mark. He rubs at the spot for a solid twenty seconds, but when he looks again, his skin is red from irritation but the mark is still there.

“It’s not coming off,” he acknowledges, belatedly realizing exactly what that means. After a moment he blinks, his eyes slowly widening. “Holy shit, it’s not coming off. It’s a mark.”

“You got a soul mark?” Minho quickly sits up, practically tossing Hyunjin off of him in the process. “Bullshit. It’s probably just permanent marker. Let me try wiping it off.”

Too stunned to protest, Jisung simply holds out his hand. Minho unscrews the cap of his half-drunk bottle of water, wetting a bit of fabric at the hem of his shirt. He grabs Jisung’s hand, and scrubs over the mark. Nothing changes.

Realizing that his efforts are futile, Minho bites the inside of his cheek and sits back on his heels. Only as he starts to pull his hand back does he notice a bit of black on his own hand too.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs quietly, just to himself at first. While the others gape at Jisung’s hand, he raises his own up to inspect it further. And sure enough, he’s got a matching **9**.

In a calm voice that totally contrasts his racing heart, he announces, “I have one too.”

Jisung’s gaze snaps up. “Is it…?”

“It’s a nine,” Minho nods, holding his hand up for him to see. “The same as yours.”

“I have one too,” Seungmin says, uncharacteristically timid. He’s pushed himself into a seated position, and is cradling his hand carefully to his chest.

“Me too,” Hyunjin chimes, arm stretched out as he studies his hand.

One-by-one, they each confirm that the mark has appeared on them too. It’s surprising, given how many of them are a part of the bond and how young they are. Most people only have one or two platonic soulmates, and won’t find them until they’re well into their twenties; yet here they are, a group of nine high schoolers and new college students, all with matching marks.

“I can’t say that I was expecting summer to end like this,” Chan says, laughing in disbelief. “This is kind of insane.”

“Not just kind of insane, hyung; it’s _very_ insane.” Changbin shakes his head slightly.

“But in a good way.” Jeongin’s eyes dart nervously around, before finally settling on Woojin. “Right?”

“Of course it’s a good thing,” Woojin says, immediately slipping into the role of the oldest. Though Jeongin and the rest of the kids are mature for their age in some ways, moments like this remind him that they’re still so young. “Right Chan?”

“Yeah,” Chan agrees, taking the prompt well. It’s clear that all of them, but especially the kids, are in need of some reassurance, and there’s no one better to give that to them than the unofficial leader of their group. “We’re all a family anyways. This just confirms that fate believes we were all meant to find each other too.”

It’s silent for a long pause, before Hyunjin suddenly breaks it with a loud, exaggerated gagging sound. “That was way too cheesy, hyung.”

“Well it’s the truth!” Chan defends, grinning. “I love all of you. You’re my family. Should I say it even louder?”

“Please don’t,” Seungmin groans, but Chan is already up on his feet. He does a small bounce, jostling the others in their places, before loudly clearing his throat.

Then, he begins to shout at the top of his lungs, “I love these boys! They‘re my family! I wouldn’t change any of them for the worl—”

Before he can say anymore, Seungmin and Hyunjin are both on their feet too. Seungmin approaches him from the back, snaking an arm around to cover his mouth, while Hyunjin clings to one of his arms, attempting to tug him down into a seated position again. Chan’s laughter is muffled into Seungmin’s hand, and he staggers under the weight of the teens, but it does exactly what he had intended—it lightens the mood. When he looks over, Jeongin is laughing, his eyes shining in that special way of his, and the tension seems to have left the others shoulders too.

Soulmates, both platonic and romantic, are a beautiful thing, but it’s still intimidating regardless. Having a platonic soulmate doesn’t just mean having a friend for life; it means that you’re completely vulnerable to that person. It’s proof that you’ve opened yourself up to that person, allowed them to see the good and bad, the highs and lows, the glamorous and the ugly.

Chan’s knees buckle after a minute—because though he’s taken to working out lately, he’s not fucking Hulk—and he falls back down against the material of the trampoline. He purposefully rolls on top of Seungmin once they fall, and simultaneously pulls Hyunjin into a headlock. “You kids are going to be the death of me,” he says, but there’s only amusement behind his words.

“No, you’re going to be the death of _me._ I can't breathe, hyung,” Seungmin wheezes out from under him. He’s being overdramatic, but Chan shifts so that the bulk of his weight is off of him nonetheless. Then, because he doesn’t want to listen to Hyunjin whine too, he releases the other boy.

They all go quiet then, the atmosphere so foreign for them. They’re naturally loud as individuals, so usually when they’re together like this, it tends to be chaotic. But they’re all reserved now, unsure of what to do next.

“So what happens now?” Jeongin asks eventually, his timid voice cutting through the silence. He’s fiddling with his ear lobe the way he always does when he’s feeling awkward.

His voice snaps Chan out of his own thoughts, but when he racks his mind for a response, he comes up blank. Luckily, Minho doesn’t hesitate. “Now we all go home,” he says, pushing himself up into his knees. “We all have classes first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Seriously?” Jisung asks incredulously. “We’re just supposed to leave like this?”

Minho raises his brows. “Life goes on. People get soul marks everyday, and the world keeps spinning.”

“He’s right,” Woojin says before the others can gang up on Minho. “Like Chan said, we were a family before, and we’re a family now. We can’t drop everything just because we got marks to prove that.”

“But–”

“There’s no ‘but’. Even if we stay here all night, nothing is going to change.” Woojin brushes his hands against the fabric of his jeans. “We all need time to process this, and in the meantime, we can’t ignore important things like our studies.”

“Especially our Innie,” Changbin coos, pinching Jeongin’s cheek. “He’s starting high school tomorrow.”

Jeongin smacks at his hand, his nose scrunching up. “Quit it.”

Changbin juts his bottom lip out into a pout, but nonetheless lowers his hand. He grumbles something under his breath, scooting back while shooting Jeongin a hurt look. It’s funny really, how the one member of their group known around school as _that dark wannabe rapper dude_ is arguably the softest at heart.

“It’s getting dark,” Chan says. “You guys should really get going. I don’t like you walking home at night.”

Hyunjin scoffs. “We’re not little kids you know.”

“I know that, but it’s still dangerous.” Chan’s gaze flicks to Jeongin quickly. While all of the others live within a few blocks of his house, Jeongin’s place is on the other side of town. Hyunjin glances over at the boy too, lips forming a small ‘o’.

“Fair enough,” he agrees, and none of the others try to protest.

They all begin the process of untangling their limbs and getting up, stretching and yawning. They’ve been laying around for nearly three hours, Chan realizes when he glances at the time on his phone. It's amazing how quickly time goes by when you desperately want it to stop.

He hops off the edge of the trampoline, making his way over to Jeongin, who is already slipping his shoes on. They’re a worn old pair of converse, no doubt a hand-me-down from his older brother. Chan makes a mental note to buy him a new pair in a few months for Christmas.

“I’ll walk you home,” Chan says. Jeongin shakes his head, slinging his backpack up onto his shoulder. The kid brings the tattered thing with him everywhere, even in summer when there’s no textbooks or homework to lug around.

“It’s okay hyung. I’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t asking you.” Chan moves forward, pulling the bag off his back. He pulls the slips his own arms through the straps instead, not giving Jeongin a moment to protest. “Start walking.”

“You’re so annoying,” Jeongin complains. Chan gives him a gentle kick on the back of his leg.

“Walk,” he repeats. Jeongin sticks his tongue out, but takes a few steps forward anyways. Chan wraps an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close as they make their way to the street.

“So are you excited to be a high schooler?”

“Are you excited to be a college student?” Jeongin fires back. Chan hums thoughtfully.

“I think it’ll be nice getting to choose my own courses and all. I finally get to study what I want to study.”

“Music,” Jeongin says. “Right?”

Chan nods. “Dad wasn’t too happy about it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to check the box for Business Administration. I know music is what I want to do.”

“I think,” Jeongin begins carefully, “sometimes our happiness has to come first. You deserve to study whatever you want to study.”

Chan’s heart swells with love. It’s moments like this that make him wonder what he did to deserve such endlessly supportive and understanding friends. He meant what he said earlier: they truly are a family. “Thanks, Jeongin.”

Jeongin manages a small shrug, ducking his head down bashfully. Under the dim streetlights, Chan can just make out the redness tinting his ears and cheeks. Chan brings a hand up to ruffle his hair fondly.

“Seriously though, you never answered my question. How are you feeling about starting at your new school tomorrow? You must be nervous,” Chan says knowingly. He remembers his first day of high school all too well, so anxious in the morning that he couldn’t even eat the nice breakfast his mother prepared.

“It’s just school,” Jeongin says, tugging one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Chan doubts that’s the whole truth, but he knows that when it comes to Jeongin, pressing the matter will get him nowhere. “Okay.” He gives Jeongin’s shoulder a squeeze. “If you change your mind, you can always call me. And the others will help you find your classes if you have a hard time.”

“Hyung,” Jeongin sends Chan a serious look. “I know.”

“Okay,” Chan repeats, pressing his lips together to keep himself from saying more.

“You don’t have to be all concerned about me. You should worry more about Seungmin—I watched him have a five minute conversation with a rabbit while we were at the park the other day,” Jeongin snorts. Chan can’t help but laugh too.

“I do worry about him,” Chan says. “I worry about all of you. It’s kind of my thing.”

Jeongin doesn’t respond, and the pause stretches long enough that Chan starts to think they’re going to be spending the rest of the walk in silence. Then, in a tone Chan can’t quite identify, he asks, “Do you worry about yourself?”

The question catches Chan off guard. _Of course I do,_ he wants to say, but then… does he? He thinks about how many sleepless nights he’s spent helping the kids on homework assignments. How many times he’s taken the blame for something his siblings have done so that they wouldn’t get in trouble. Hell—he’d nearly chosen a major he absolutely hates just to preserve his parents happiness.

So he opts for the truth, because Jeongin would see right through his bullshit anyways. “I’m working on it,” he says. Jeongin nods, acknowledging his response without looking all that surprised by it.

Averting his gaze down to his hand, Chan studies the fresh mark there. It still hasn’t fully sunk in that they’re all bonded together in such a sacred way, that their friendship has been given destiny’s seal of approval. Though he put on a brave front for the others, he can’t help but feel scared about it too.

“Even if you don’t worry about yourself,” Jeongin says after a beat, “the rest of us still worry about you.”

“What’s got you all insightful tonight, huh? Have you been reading philosophy textbooks or something?”

A small grin appears on Jeongin’s face. “I’m a mature high school student now.”

“Clearly.”

“And I just think it’s good for you to know that you’re not alone. Especially now that we have these,” Jeongin holds up his own marked hand, wiggling his fingers.

“We’re all stuck with each other for life now,” Chan agrees. “Who do you think is going to look the best with a beard in twenty years?”

“No one,” Jeongin says with a playful shudder.

“Really? I think Minho could pull one off.” Chan brushes the back of his hand against his own cheek. “Maybe I should try to grow one out now. It’d be a lot more convenient not having to shave every morning.”

“I would disown you,” Jeongin says seriously.

They spend the remainder of the walk making more silly small talk, as the sun fully sets and the sky turns dark. Chan spots a few stray stars in the sky, but there’s too much light pollution in this area for a good view.

“I’m going to miss days like today,” Jeongin admits quietly as they round the corner to his street. “It’s nice when all of us can hang out together.”

“We’ll still be able to hang out together,” Chan assures. “We might be doing homework instead of just fucking around, but we’ll still be together.”

Jeongin’s hopeful eyes meet his. “You promise?”

“I promise. In fact, why don’t we all meet up for dinner tomorrow?” Chan offers. “I’ll message the others on the way home. We can go out for chicken or something to celebrate the new school year.”

Jeongin breaks out into a big smile, the sight warming Chan’s heart as always. It’s hard to find such sweet, pure smiles in such an ugly world. “Really?”

“Really,” Chan nods. “I’ll even pay.”

“Sweet,” Jeongin breathes out. He flings himself at Chan, giving the older a tight hug. “You’re the best, Chan hyung!”

“I know,” Chan says smugly. Then he steps back, nodding in the direction of the building’s steps. “Now head inside.”

Jeongin’s grin wavers. Chan finds himself frowning too. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Jeongin says quickly. He forces a brighter expression, sheepish eyes meeting Chan’s. “I guess I’m just a little tired.”

“Get to bed early tonight. Sleep is important for growing boys.” Chan surveys Jeongin. “On second thought, don’t go to bed early. I don’t need you getting taller than me.”

“I’m already ta–”

“Remember who’s treating you to a meal tomorrow,” Chan interrupts, effectively silencing the younger boy. “Text me when you’re inside.”

“We’re six feet away from the door,” Jeongin deadpans.

“And you still have to make it to your apartment once you’re inside.”

“Isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“Nope,” Chan says, slowly beginning to walk backwards. He won’t actually leave until he sees Jeongin get into the building, but it’s the best way he can think of to get him to stop protesting.

Sure enough, Jeongin lets out a defeated sigh and simply nods. He turns around on his heel, starting up the steps that lead inside. As he does, Chan swears he can see a bit of discolored skin just barely peeking out of the collar of his shirt; but then again, it might have merely been a shadow. These damn streets don’t have nearly enough lighting.

He watches until the door closes safely behind Jeongin, before turning around to begin the walk home.

 

—

 

**Chan [** **9:53 pm]**

_we’re having a family dinner tomorrow_

_my treat_

_and good luck at school everyone !!!!_

 


	2. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the response to this fic so far, it really means a lot to me!!! as you’ve probably guessed from this update, i have decided to continue it as a multi-chapter project :)
> 
> i hope you all enjoy!

“Innie!”

Jeongin barely has time to brace for impact before Seungmin is flinging himself onto his back. He stumbles forward a few steps, nearly sending them both flying to the ground, but somehow manages to regain his balance at the last second. “What the hell are you doing?” He groans.

They’re in the middle of the school’s courtyard, along with other students who have arrived early. Jeongin had been planning to go in, find his locker, and get organized; but before he had the chance to even get close to the steps leading inside, he’d nearly been tackled to the ground by a wild Seungmin.

“Don’t curse at your hyung,” Seungmin scolds, giving one of his ears a sharp tug.

“So annoying,” Jeongin grumbles under his breath, sending a half-hearted glare over his shoulder. As he does, he can’t help but wince from the pain radiating from his already sore back. “Can you get off please?”

For once in his life Seungmin listens well, sliding down and standing on his own two feet. But he doesn’t give Jeongin a moment to breathe before he slings an arm around his shoulders, leaning into his side.

“You’re going to ruin my image,” Jeongin complains, attempting to shake Seungmin off. It doesn’t work. “Seriously, get off.”

“What image?” Seungmin asks with a snort. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to be all tough and mysterious now.”

Jeongin lifts his chin up a bit. “And what if I am? I can totally be tough be tough and mysterious.”

“Who’s tough and mysterious?”

Both boys look over their shoulders, and find Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix approaching. Judging by the smirks on their faces, they’ve watched the whole scene unfold; yet not a single one of them bothered to step in and save Jeongin. Jerks.

“I am,” Jeongin says.

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “It’s his new image,” he says in a mocking tone.

Hyunjin steps forward, placing his hands on both of Jeongin’s cheeks. He squishes them together, a grin on his face. “The fact that you think that only makes you cuter.”

“Quit it!” Jeongin flushes, his words slightly muffled. “This is embarrassing.”

“You should be proud to have friends like us,” Hyunjin swipes his index finger gently over the top of Jeongin’s nose, before finally releasing him. “Not every first year has senior friends.”

“Lucky them,” Jeongin grumbles. Seungmin pulls him closer, squeezing him into a tight side hug.

“Don’t try and act like you don’t love us.”

“Isn’t that Minho hyung?” Jeongin asks in lieu of an actual response, nodding toward the entrance of the courtyard. While Seungmin looks, he manages to squirm his way out of his grip, and takes a few steps back just to be safe. Unfortunately, he walks directly into Felix, who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him from behind.

“Minho hyung!” Seungmin calls out, earning himself a few looks from their classmates. He pays them no mind though, even waving his arms to get Minho’s attention.

To his credit, it works. Minho looks over, his face breaking out into a smile when he spots them. He starts to walk toward them, seemingly immune to the stares of their classmates. When you have a face as pretty as his, you tend to draw attention wherever you go.

“Where’s Changbin hyung?” Felix asks once Minho is close enough. He’s still back-hugging Jeongin, clinging to him like a sloth would a tree. “Doesn’t he normally walk with you?”

“He had to run an errand for his mom, so he told me he was walking alone today.” Minho smirks, raising his brows suggestively. “Why? Do you miss him that much already?”

Felix’s ears go red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Minho says in a knowing tone.

“Anyways,” Felix clears his throat, abruptly releasing his grip on Jeongin. He averts his gaze, settling on Jisung, who appears blissfully oblivious as per usual. “Is everyone going to dinner tonight?”

“I think Chan hyung will kill us if we don’t show up,” Minho says with a playful shudder.

“And it's a free meal,” Hyunjin adds. “I’m not going to skip out on that.”

“Chan hyung is buying us dinner?” Jisung asks, surprised. Felix frowns at him.

“Didn’t you read the group chat messages last night?”

“Shit, no.” Jisung smiles sheepishly. “I haven’t had time to check my phone. My dad spent the entire morning lecturing me about how I need to apply myself at school.”

“He’s not wrong,” Minho says. “Didn’t you get accepted into that international school in Malaysia at the beginning of last year? Yet you had the worst grades of all of us at the end of the year.”

“Second worst,” Jisung corrects. “Changbin hyung is shit at English, so he had the worst grades at the end of the last semester.”

Minho studies the smug look on his friends face, shaking his head incredulously. “That’s not something to be _proud_ of _._ You could probably be ranked in the top 20 if you actually bothered to try.”

“Now you sound like my father,” Jisung groans. “Look, let’s just drop the subject. I promise to pay a little bit more attention in class.”

“Whatever,” Minho mumbles.

Suddenly, someone lets out a low whistle from behind them. They all turn toward the source, and find Changbin standing just a few feet back. “School hasn't even officially started and you guys are already fighting? Is this what happens when the hyungs leave?”

“We’re not fighting,” Minho and Jisung say simultaneously, giving each other side eyes immediately after. Changbin sighs.

“There’s a lot of tension because of the marks, I get that, but can we all just try and keep the peace for today?”

“Of course hyung,” Felix pipes up, even though the comment clearly wasn’t directed at him.

“Good,” Changbin says, still staring at Minho and Jisung. The two lower their eyes shamefully.

“I’m going inside now,” Jeongin says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. It’s an obvious attempt to escape the uncomfortable situation. “I don’t want to be late on the first day.”

“I’ll go with you,” Hyunjin says quickly.

“Me too,” Seungmin adds. He grabs Jeongin’s wrist with one hand and Hyunjin’s with the other, and without a word to the remaining four, starts walking toward the steps.

“We should go too,” Changbin says to Felix. “Didn’t you say you wanted to show me that thing?”

“What thing?” Felix asks, belatedly realizing what Changbin is trying to do—he’s trying to give them a few minutes to fix this on their own. His eyes widen, and he quickly adds, “Oh right! That thing. Yeah, let’s go.”

As the two of them rush off, Minho and Jisung are left standing awkwardly together. Jisung scoffs his shoe against the dirt, while Minho’s pointedly studies the clear blue sky above.

Fights amongst their group of friends aren’t exactly uncommon. When you put nine young boys together, disagreements are inevitable, and they always wind up working them out. Still, it’s never been _them_ fighting, and it just feels _wrong_.

“I hate this,” Minho voices. “It’s fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” Jisung agrees. “It really fucking is.”

There’s a brief silence again, those words hanging heavily between them. Neither of them want this, and yet they don’t know how to fix it. Typically things are so easy when they’re together; they’re best friends, they understand each other on an entirely different level, and having this rift between them is unnatural.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” Minho says at last.

Jisung lifts his head so that he can look at him properly. “I know you were just saying all of that because you care about me, but I don’t need three parents. The two I already have do more than enough nagging on their own.”

Minho nods in acknowledgement. “So do we have to kiss and make up, or are we cool now?”

Jisung blatantly checks him out from head to toe, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss.”

“Alright.” Without hesitation, Minho starts to lean in, lips puckered in an exaggerated fashion.

“Fuck off,” Jisung laughs, shoving him gently in the direction of the building.

Just like that, things are right again.

(Or as right as they can be, anyways.)

 

 

—

 

 

They’re meeting for dinner at their usual spot: a small noodle shop just a five minute walk from Chan’s house. It’s nothing fancy, the signs hanging in the window are worn with age, and the lights are always flickering; but the food is decent and it’s never busy, which suits them well enough.

Chan arrives ahead of the kids, savoring the chill of the air conditioning as he steps inside. Though summer vacation has come to an end, the summer weather is still in full force. It’s impossibly humid outside, leaving him with a sheen layer of sweat and uncontrollably frizzy hair after just the few minute walk.

Woojin is sitting at the only booth in the place, tucked into the far right corner. It’s where they typically sit, because though it’s a tight squeeze, it saves them from getting scolded by the owners for pushing too many tables together.

“I already ordered for us,” Woojin says as Chan slips into the booth beside him. “I figured everyone would be starving by the time they got here.”

“Good call,” Chan murmurs. He slumps back into faux leather material, skin sticking uncomfortably to it all the while. When he’s settled in enough, he leans his head back, shuts his eyes, and lets out a heavy sigh.

Woojin studies him for a few moments. “Rough day?” He asks.

“I thought my first class started at 10,” Chan mumbles, “so I set my alarm for 8 to make sure I would have enough time to get ready. Then I reread the introductory email from my professor and saw that it actually starts at 9.”

Woojin winces in sympathy. “Well at least you realized you had the time wrong before it was too late,” he says, trying to point out the bright side. Chan blinks his eyes open, sending him an unamused expression.

“I had already missed the bus so I had to ride my dad’s bike there.” Chan shakes his head. “My first impression to my classmates was me covered in sweat. And then when I got there, I found out that I bought the wrong edition of the textbook, so I dropped a hell of a lot of money for nothing.”

“Can I do anything?” Woojin asks gently.

“No. It was just a shitty day.” Chan gives a small shrug, taking a deep breath. “Please don’t tell the kids though? I don’t want them to try and hide their feelings for my sake.”

Woojin studies his face. “I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to, but they don’t mind you talking about your feelings.”

“I know, but if I’m all sulky when they get here then they won’t want to talk about their good days. And I think it’ll cheer me up if they’re happy.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Woojin amends. He’s still not entirely convinced, but there’s no doubt he’ll do what Chan wants. “You’re a good hyung, maybe even too good. Way better than me, at any rate.”

Chan cracks a slight smile at that.“Don’t put yourself down like that. We make a damn good team.”

Woojin doesn’t respond, but he does return the smile, which says enough. He’s opened up a lot to Chan in the two years they’ve known each other, but he’s still hesitant at times. “The kids should be here any minute,” he says, effectively changing the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to bail before it’s too late? I could tell them you were feeling sick or something.”

“No. That would just make them worry.” Chan thinks back to his conversation with Jeongin the previous night. “And I promised Innie we would do this tonight. I can't cancel now.”

As if on cue, the bells on the door of the restaurant chime, alerting them to the entrance of their friends. They walk in chattering loudly, and Chan can only be grateful that the place is pretty much empty, save for one elderly man sitting in the opposite corner, who remains unbothered.

All seven boys walk over, piling into the booth around Chan and Woojin. They wind up packed in like sardines—and sweaty sardines at that—but there’s something nice about the closeness too.

“How was everyone’s first day of school?” Chan asks. It’s equal parts impressive and concerning how quickly he’s able to put on a bright facade. “Did anything exciting happen?”

He doesn’t miss how the others eyes dart toward Minho and Jisung, but none of them actually say anything. Part of Chan knows that he should be pressing for an explanation; but then again, conflict resolution is an important life skill to learn, right? It could be good for the kids to figure things out on their own, and frankly, he doesn’t want to deal with a petty argument anyways.

“It was school,” Changbin deadpans. “What do you think?”

Woojin gives him a swift quick on the other table, earning a soft yelp from the other boy. Changbin shoots him a glare. “What was that for?”

Ignoring the question, Woojin looks toward the others. “Come on. There must have been something good about your days.”

“My teacher let us watch a movie,” Jeongin offers up. “He said the materials we need for his class aren’t ready yet, so the real lessons probably won’t start for a couple days.”

“There was fruit at lunch today,” Felix adds, “and the lunch lady gave me an extra slice of watermelon.”

“That’s because she has a weird crush on you,” Jisung says, scrunching his nose up. “She’s always talking about your freckles. It’s creepy.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t get an extra slice too,” Felix says. Jisung purses his lips, clearly suppressing the urge to pout.

“It’s not fair! I’m handsome too.”

“No you’re not,” Jeongin says. Jisung moves to give him a whack, but Woojin tugs him back down by his arm before he can.

“Don’t fight at the dinner table,” Woojin scolds. “You remember what happened last time.”

“One time,” Jisung says in an exasperated tone. “I got us kicked out of that sketchy pizza place _one time_ and none of you will let me live it down _._ And it wasn’t even my fault!”

 

 

—

 

 

Their food comes out just a short time later, and conversation dwindles down while they fill their stomachs. It’s welcomed quiet time for Chan, who is steadily losing his resolve.

He thought that he would be able to handle this, that he could suppress everything long enough to get through dinner, but he’s regretting that decision now. All he wants is to be at home, lying in bed with his AirPods in and music blasting so that he can forget about the world for awhile. Instead, he’s sandwiched between Woojin and Felix, fighting off a headache.

So he enjoys the silence while it lasts, no longer bothering with the fake smile. It’s nice, so nice that he’s starting to think that maybe he made the right call after all, until—

“Are we going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room?” Seungmin asks eventually. Chan’s hands curl into fists under the table.  

Jeongin’s head snaps up, noodles hanging from his lips. “There’s an elephant?” He asks through the mouthful, causing a noodle to fall onto the front of his shirt.

“It’s a figure of speech, genius. He’s talking about our marks.” Changbin sends him a sharp look. He picks the noodle off and drops it into his empty bowl. “And swallow your food before you speak.”

Obediently, Jeongin (noisily) slurps down the ramen, not even bothering to chew. It’s a habit that the hyungs have scolded him for countless times, but he’s yet to break it. “What about our marks?” He asks once he’s swallowed. “I thought we all agreed last night that they don’t change anything.”

“But that’s not exactly true. They change a lot,” Seungmin says.

“I think I get what he means.” Hyunjin leans forward, elbows resting on the table. “Whether we like it or not, things are different now.”

The comment is fair when Chan thinks about it logically, but he’s not feeling particularly rational at the moment. His nerves are shot.

“That’s true,” Chan agrees in a low tone, “but why should we dwell on that? Is talking about it going to make the marks magically go away and put things back to normal? No, it’s not. So can we all agree to stop fucking talking about it tonight?”

His voice gathers more heat as he speaks, making the words come out harsher than he had intended. It’s mainly because he’s just so _tired_. After a long day where nothing went right, all he wants is to enjoy the company of his friends without any worries; but that seems impossible at the moment. Everyone but Woojin, whether they realize it or not, is looking at Chan like they’re expecting him to just make it all better.

He gets it. Usually he’s on standby with consolation, advice, or general words of wisdom in moments like this, but he just doesn’t have the energy for it today. It’s been a long day, he’s completely drained, and frankly regretting this dinner in the first place.

Everyone has gone quiet, and Chan can feel the newfound tension in the air. It stirs up a bit of guilt in him, because he really hadn’t meant for their meal to turn out like this.  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“No, you’re right hyung,” Seungmin says softly. “Talking about it won’t change anything.”

“Seungmin–”

“Why don’t we all call it a night?” Woojin interrupts, drumming his fingers lightly against the table. “I don’t think any of us are in the right mindset to have a rational conversation. We’re all tired, we all had long days, and I think it’ll be best if we all head home.”

No one protests.

 

 

—

 

 

Despite the awful atmosphere and his even worse mood, Chan stays true to his word and handles the bill. He keeps his promises, and besides, it’s the least that he can do after ruining dinner. Once he’s finished paying, he heads outside, only  to find Hyunjin and Jeongin standing just to the left of the door.

“Why didn’t you leave with the others?” Chan asks.

“We wanted to make sure you were okay,” Hyunjin says. Jeongin nods in agreement, eyes wide and earnest.

“I’m okay. It’s just been a long day,” Chan exhales through his nose, “but that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t have taken it out on any of you.”

“We don’t care about that,” Jeongin says dismissively. “We care about you.”

It simultaneously warms Chan’s heart, and reignites his guilt. He doesn’t deserve friends like them, but he’s grateful to have them by his side anyways.

“Thank you,” he says softly, pulling them both for a spontaneous hug. They seem surprised, but Chan just holds them close for a moment. “I love you boys.”

“We love you too hyung,” Hyunjin says, the words muffled into Chan’s shoulder.

“Now please let us go,” Jeongin adds, squirming uncomfortably. Chan releases them, but only after one last squeeze.

Jeongin smooths out the front of his shirt, before pulling his phone out. He checks the time, pressing his lips together when he reads just how late it is. “I should really get going.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Chan says, though he can already feel his exhausted body protesting. Trekking all the way across town and back sounds awful, but there’s no way he’s going to let Jeongin walk on his own. Their youngest may be a high schooler now, but he’s still more vulnerable than he likes to think.

“You don’t have to,” Jeongin waves him off, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I’m really fine.”

“You say that every time and it never changes anything,” Hyunjin points out. Jeongin narrows his eyes at him, mouthing something that Chan can’t quite make out.

“I can walk him home hyung,” he offers suddenly. Chan looks over at him warily.

“Seriously?”

Hyunjin hums in confirmation. “I could use the fresh air. I hate being cooped up in school all day.”

“And you’ll be alright walking home by yourself after you drop him off?” Chan asks.

“I’ll be fine. I took martial arts for like, eight years.” Hyunjin pulls a ninja-esque pose that’s far more cute than intimidating. “I can protect us.”

“Okay.” Usually Chan would protest more, and it speaks to just how tired he is that he doesn’t even bother today. “Both of you need to send a text to the group chat when you’re home so everyone knows you’re okay.”

“Alright,” Hyunjin agrees. He places a hand at the small of Jeongin’s back. “Let’s get going, kid.”

“I’m not even a full year younger than you,” Jeongin complains, but nevertheless starts forward. Hyunjin looks over his shoulder, sending Chan a wink.

Chan stands there, watching them until they round the corner at the end of the street. As happy as he is to be getting a bit of a break, he can’t deny that he’s still scared. It almost feels as though he’s sent two innocent lambs into a lion’s den.

“They’re fine.”

He startles, spinning around on his heel to face Woojin. “Fuck, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?”

“I never left,” Woojin says. He nods down the street where Hyunjin and Jeongin had walked, and repeats, “They’re fine. You don’t have to worry about them.”

“I’m not worried, I’m just…”

“Worried,” Woojin supplies with a slight laugh.

“Maybe a little bit.” Chan stuffs his hands into his pockets. “It feels like I’m letting everyone down tonight. I still can’t believe I snapped at Seungmin like that. It’s like I kicked a puppy.”

“You’re not letting anyone down,” Woojin says, expression sobering into something far more serious. “Don’t beat yourself up about anything that happened tonight. We all know you’re human, even if you don’t remember sometimes. People have bad days. It’s part of life.”

Chan remains silent.

“Let me walk you home,” Woojin says softly.

“I practically live around the corner.”

“I know that,” Woojin says, “but you deserve to have someone taking care of you too.”

All of a sudden, Chan’s throat feels tight. Hot tears sting at the backs of his eyes, and he blinks rapidly to keep them away. Woojin gives him a patient, tender smile. “Allergies are getting to you, huh?”

“Yeah. Allergies.” Chan coughs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Woojin’s hand trails down Chan’s shoulder, past his elbow, and all the way down until their fingertips brush. He carefully intertwines their fingers, giving Chan’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get you home,” he says softly.

And so they go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :)


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